~ Asgara is a world that i developed mentally several months ago, it is largely based on the concepts of norse mythology (which i am a huge fan of) - specifically it takes the concept of the world as a tree, and several... ok many of the characters are based upon figures and ideals presented in the mythology, but its ok Tolkien did it too [anybody remember Mirkwood Forest? yah well that is flat out stolen from norse myths =)]
anyhow the **********'s indicate a new chapter (or at least a change of time, perspective, etc) and i shall try to scan/post a map at some point in the not too distant future but for now suffice it to say that the story begins in the temperate/tropical climate of Danubar (the region/state/country) in southwestern Asgara (the known world) and is not coastal, though it does get a fair amount of rain and could even be compared to our rainforests or jungles on some level
Now then that being said i shall begin ^^
~eru~
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Gaum awoke to the heavenly chirping of birds; the same sound he had awoken to every morning since before he could remember. His eyes flicked open long enough to gauge the time before settling closed again. An hour ’till dawn, he thought, time to get up. He rolled laboriously out of his small cot and made his way outside to take care of his morning duties of feeding the horses, cows, and sheep, and of milking the cows.
These cows would never get milked if it weren’t for me, he mused as he worked. My father wouldn’t do it… even when he does sleep at the house.
Gaum’s father was a drunk. Gaum had never seen him without a flask of wine in one hand and a drunken girl in the other. He seldom visited the farm, and when he did Gaum often wished he had not. Gaum didn’t like to be reminded of his father and moreover, didn’t like to think of the impression his father’s charades would leave on his little sister Ghale.
No, Gaum thought, Father wouldn’t lift a finger to help his own mother, let alone his son. Mother has her own chores and Ghale, ah, poor young Ghale, she would love to help, only she’s too young. Gaum thoughts became a wordless mixture of pity for his mother and sister, and anger at his father’s unstirred attitude. Presently, he heard his mother calling to him, “Gaum, breakfast!” and, after completing his predawn duties, made his way to the house by way of the washbasin.
The irresistible smell of freshly cooked biscuits filled his nose as he scrubbed his face with the coldly refreshing water. He finished scrubbing and strode lithely into the house.
Gaum’s mother was bustling about, somehow managing to set the table, butter the biscuits, and herd Ghale towards the table all while maintaining her self-composure. Ghale on the other hand was completely disheveled. She had been attempting to help her mother by cleaning the dishes that morning in the predawn hours when Eru, the family’s mischievous dog, had sprinted in the house, muddy after his morning romp with the other farm dogs. Eru had tackled her, held her down with his paws and proceeded to bathe her in kisses, only stopping after he was satisfied that Ghale was muddier and wetter than himself. Eru then dashed back outside and began to wrestle with the family’s pigs, apparently in order to restore his outer layer of mud. Gaum’s mother now shifted the majority of her attention to hauling Ghale outside to the washbasin, deaf to her pleas for freedom.
Gaum finished setting the table and buttering the biscuits [his mother had not yet buttered] at a leisurely pace, pondering the upcoming events of the day. It was the final day of the harvest, which meant that tomorrow the celebrations would begin in Coldguard. Gaum had been eagerly awaiting the celebrations for some time; however, his mother had already made it clear to him that he couldn’t leave for Coldguard, which was about a 6 hour walk, until the harvest was finished, and that he could only go if he was guaranteed to arrive in Coldguard before dark. This would mean that Gaum had to leave right after lunch.
Hmm, he thought, if Dyarr were to help, perhaps I can finish the harvest by noon-time, and still have time to reach Coldguard before dark. Getting Dyarr to help will be the hard part…
The family sat down to a meager, but satisfying meal of biscuits. “Can I come to Coldguard with you Gaum?” asked Ghale, starting a heated breakfast conversation.
“Absolutely not” Gaum’s mother answered for him, “Haven’t you heard the stories? The roads aren’t safe anymore, even during the day.”
“Wait,” Gaum said, “I thought you said I could go as long as the harvest was finished.”
“You, not your sister”
“How is it any less safe for her than for me and Dyarr?”
“She’s too young –”
“She’s only a year and a half younger than me.”
“Yeah,” cut in Ghale, “I’m not that young, besides, I get into less trouble than Gaum, he’s the one you shouldn’t let go, not me.”
“I said NO!”
“Ok, ok, ok,” said Gaum, subtly winking at Ghale, “I understand. You are too young anyhow.”
“Pleaase?” asked Ghale with a slightly transparent tone of acquiescence.
“No.”
They proceeded to eat in silence until Eru slogged smugly into the house. His ears perked up as the mouth-watering smell caught his nose and he tore through the kitchen and into the dining room before sidling coyly up to the table with an innocent expression etched into his shaggy face. His care did not go unrewarded as Ghale slipped her biscuit crumbs under the table when she though her mother wasn’t watching.
Gaum presently ate the last biscuit and strode purposefully to Dyarr’s cottage. He hammered on the archaic wooden door until Dyarr opened it. “Dyarr,” began Gaum.
“Yah, I will.” Interrupted Dyarr
“Eh?”
“You came to ask me to help with the harvest so that we can go to Coldguard and I’m saying that I will.” It was not a question.
“How’d you know?”
“Do you or don’t you want my help?”
“Well yeah but –”
“Then shut up and let’s get to work.”
The odd thing about harvests, thought Gaum, is that the amount of time it takes to finish decreases exponentially with each additional worker. Silence reigned over their chore for several hours until Ghale tread lightly up to Gaum, “So when are we leaving?” she asked.
“Shhh… mother might hear, but we’re almost done here so we’ll leave right after noon-time meal.”
“Mother won’t hear. She’s gone.”
“Where’d she go?”
“How would I know, you know that she never tells us when she leaves.”
“Weren’t you gonna’ follow her today?”
“I was before I decided to come to Coldguard with you.”
Gaum sighed despairingly, women are so willful… even miniature ones, he thought. Yet he dropped the subject and graciously entreated her to fix them some lunch. After she left, he turned to Dyarr, “I have half a mind to leave her here.”
“I have a whole mind to leave her here” Dyarr snorted back “and to tie her down to keep her here.”
“We can’t do that Dyarr she’s not a dog.”
“We can, and we will if we want her to stay, ‘cause I’d wager my fattest pig that she’s muley enough to try following us if we leave her”
“Dyarr, don’t you see?” began Gaum
“Yes, I see,” Dyarr interjected, “I’m fully aware that she has been waiting all year for this festival, and that she’s likely to make up a story that would get us in trouble if we leave her; however, I also see us being responsible for her if she comes, and us getting into more trouble for taking her than any tale she invents would get us into.”
“Well I see her telling the baker who stole her cakes last week, and telling your mother who put her drying clothes in the mud, and my mother who spread all those terrible rumors about her, and the blacksmith who beat all his horseshoes into those obscene shapes, and telling the brewer who drained his barrels and filled them with fermenting manure.”
Gaum and Dyarr both jumped as Ghale, whom neither had heard approach, said, “Don’t forget about the time you two took Eru to a skunk’s den.”
“That too,” said Gaum.
And so it was decided then that the three of them would set out for Coldguard immediately, consuming the meat, cheese, and bread that made up their lunch en route.
**********
The sun drifted lazily into an autumn afternoon as Gaum and Dyarr strode down the heavily wooded path to Coldguard while Ghale and Eru skipped ahead. Gaum cast about in his brain for some pleasant topic for discussion and, failing to find one, resigned himself to walking in silence. Dyarr however, did not, instead broaching the one topic that Gaum had shunned.
“Aye, so ye’ve heard the stories then haven’t ye?” asked Dyarr, who tended to forget his grammar rules when he was especially excited or distraught.
“What stories?”
Dyarr threw a nervous glance along the tree-line before answering, “Wolves ye imbecile! Have ye heard about the wolves?”
“I’ve heard some,” said Gaum, “more than I should like to have heard as often as not.”
“Aye, I’ve heard the blasted creatures’ gone crazy. They ain’t satisfied wit sheep or deer no more, I hear they got a tastin’ for human flesh. There’s been talk in the village that only half the travelers down this road live to see the end of it.”
Gaum cut him off with a finger to his lips and a tacit nod of his head towards Ghale before he could say more. Dyarr acknowledged him with a slightly raised eyebrow and was about to resume his morbid tirade when Ghale screamed. Gaum nocked an arrow as he hurried to her side; Dyarr too had his axe loosened, and was with them in an instant. A revolting scene awaited them. The putrid corpse of human lay broken in the road, though in reality it was little more than a pile of bones. The eyes were long since pecked out, as was the liver. The fat and muscle were gone too; all that remained were the strings of ligaments and the stench of decay. Eru barked once at it, nudged it with his snout as though expecting it to wake, and then backed away. A deeply troubled appearance supplanted his normally cheery countenance. The other three echoed his dismay.
Ghale ran to her brother and buried her face in his shoulder, “Who is it?” she cried.
“Perhaps ye mean who was it?” said Dyarr with a gruff laugh.
Gaum shot him a look [that would freeze ice ~lol does this convey the message i want it to? (specifically that it was an incredibly cold look that would chill something already frozen)], “I don’t know Ghale, but Dyarr and I are going to make sure that doesn’t become us, only we need to keep moving.”
Ghale didn’t move except to hug him tighter, “Promise me you’ll never leave me Gaum.”
“Why would I leave you?”
“Promise you won’t!”
“Ok I promise” Gaum said, slightly unconvincingly. [“I swear to you on everything that I hold dear, may it all burn in hell’s flames if I ever desert you.” ~ is this too iunno... fluffy?]
“Enough with this gushy nonsense,” Dyarr said with a gesture towards the carcass, “we have to keep moving or we’ll all three wind up lookin’ like that thing.”
The four set off once more in greatly sobered mood; no longer did they skip or make idle conversation. The tightly nit pack trudged down the forest trail in a solemn silence. Gaum moved with an arrow half-strung, and Dyarr fingered his loosened axe. Even Eru travelled with abnormal care, growling every now and then. All four breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief as Coldguard crept into view.
**********
Saele casually opened her startlingly emerald eyes and flicked the fiery red hair out them at Iduna’s light touch upon her lips.
